#robb stark prompt

[missswritesalot]

Can i request some possessive, maybe even a little mean, Robb Stark nsfw? i need that man in a way that borders on obsession 😭

A/N hope you like it anon. Gets soft at the end. Will edit later for historical accuracy. Requests open.

"Your grace," you began nervously as your husband threw open your bedchamber door. Opening it was hard enough so thinking of the force it took to rattle the hinges made you wince. Perhaps you could finally see the King Robb that maidens swooned for and bards sang of.

"Like a dog? A beast? Numbskulled brute? Is that what you said?" He spat out. His anger, so hard to provoke but equally hard to quell. Now it was righteous too.

“I didn’t mean any of it,” you nervously said. “I only wished to entertain.”

Robb walked towards you and you took a step back. You were vulnerable, only wearing your shift.

“And what did you call yourself? Little more than a whore I paid two coppers for? A greedy little queen, at the mercy of the king?” Robb said. “I can’t even repeat what I heard. Yet you said it when I have done nothing but treat you gently with kindness.”

“It was only my ladies, and I didn’t wish to disappoint, husband.” You said. You placed your hand gently on his chest. “They dream of you, and I couldn’t appear jealous. I needed to show you didn’t lack passion in bed.”

“Wasn’t just the ladies. My men heard you recount your pleasure and now they’re the ones salivating.” He shouted.

“Cease this! It’s childish and I will speak as I wish.” You said, feigning annoyance.

Robb looked madder with each word out of your mouth. He gripped your wrists to the point of pain and spun you around. With a hand on your back, he pushed you face down onto the furs.

"You talk like a whore you get taken like one."

He pushed your chemise up and you felt his fingers find the most sensitive parts of you. He shoved two in roughly, making you scream. Thank the old gods, your plan worked better than expected.

“And what of my men guarding you? Did they have to hear your of escapades? Know how you enjoy in my chamber?” Robb demanded.

The twist of his fingers in your unprepared cunt made tears spring to your eyes.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked. You refused to reply. You shook your head.

“You’re mine, you hear me?” Robb yelled. He slapped your arse to make his point. No need to trigger him even more, you decided. “Who owns ye?” He asked again.

“You do,” you mumbled.

“And I am your King, and your husband. And you had better remember that.”

“Yes, husband.” You whispered. You heard the sounds of him undressing. You didn’t dare move.

Robb held your hips on either side of you and pushed you into the bed.

“Who’ll take you now?” He demanded.

“You, my lord and husband.” You replied submissive. His breathing behind you told you he was still furious.

His hands tightened around your hips and you felt the impossible thickness of his member at your entrance. He'd taken you before, he was your goddamn husband, but never in anger and never like this.

He began to push in, deaf to your cries.

"Robb," you pleaded, your will breaking. He was deep in you but not to the hilt yet. This new position was physically uncomfortable adding to your humiliation. "Please, please." You begged. You didn't know what you were asking for, for him to let you go or for a moment to adjust. But you were so hot you could barely see. You had never felt desire like this. You anticipated your release like Robb returning home.

"No," he said quietly. "You will accept this, wife." He sheathed himself to the hilt within your body. You were glad he'd let go of your arms, so you could twist your fingers into the furs on your bed.

He was deeper than before in this new position, you felt like you were being split open. You reminded yourself you were trying for this reaction. Some part of your heart hurt most of all, knowing that your husband didn't care about the pain he inflicted upon your body. He was mean.

He pulled out again and pushed back in slowly. The deep pleasure knocked the breath out of your lungs. It added to everything you felt from the stretch of his girth.

Your cries grew louder due to pleasure, and you were screaming in abandon at how good he made you feel.

“More, husband, Robb, please.” You begged incoherently. The snap of his hips against yours set a harsh pace.

He tried to stop, to tease you, but he couldn’t. He was too excited looking at your body beneath him.

It didn’t take long before you were clenched around his cock in your pleasure, and he spent in response to you.

Robb collapsed atop you. He rolled over to the side, breathing heavily. You took a moment to calm yourself down and turned to face him. You took his hand in yours carefully, you wanted to know if his anger had been quelled yet. You were pleased when he brought your hand to his lips to kiss it.

“I love you,” he said. “And I have no desire to share you. Not this. Not our time together when we get so little.” Robb confessed. Your heart broke for him. Perhaps you’d gone too far in seeking his passion.

His face grew tense as you didn’t reply. “Have I hurt you, love?” He asked, caressing your cheek. You leaned into his touch with a sigh.

“No, dear husband. I love you too,” you said softly, content.

[dipperscavern]

him frowning like this when you argue

[cdragons]

@dipperscavern & i were gushing over our child aka second in command!reader, akaa doe, and as a parent, I felt the need to contribute

second in command!reader who is Jory Cassel's baby sister and whose mother died giving birth to her the same year as Robb Stark in 281 AC

second in command!reader who became Jory Cassel's whole world when he was only 8 years old - even more so when he learned from his Uncle Rodrik that his father died at the end of Robert's Rebellion at the Tower of Joy

second in command!reader who grew up completely and wholly loved and protected because she had her big brother Jory to look after and protect her

her first word was a swear word because her Uncle Rodrik stubbed his toe that one time when she was only a few months old and her first word was the 'f-bomb'

mother, father, brother - whatever his little doe of a sister needed him to be, he did that for her because she was his baby sister, and he loved her more than he loved anything ever

she got picked on for not having a mother or father, and sometimes there would be mean people who said she killed their mother and Jory actually hated her and only pretended to love her

when she cried to Jory about this, she asked him if he ever hated her because she killed their mother

she is crying so much at how her beloved brother's face drops and she starts to believe that those mean people were right - until Jory takes her little hands in his and tells her with such a serious expression that he’s never loved anyone so much after meeting them for the first time

second in command!reader who Robb Stark had been in love with since he first laid eyes on her even though he never realized it and since they were babies, he would cry so loudly if she wasn't in his line of sight

second in command!reader who grew up with Robb and Jon at winterfell, and who was a spitfire with more audacity than a wildling from the moment she took her first steps

second in command!reader who was the little darling doe at winterfell with Sansa because she's the oldest girl and Ned Stark's boys would follow her until they reached the ends of the earth

second in command!reader who had Ned Stark's boys totally wrapped around her finger, and these three got into the most insane situations because little doe was an unhinged child

the trio became a squad when her brother came back after fighting in the Greyjoy Rebellion and Theon Greyjoy was taken as a hostage to winterfell

the squad became even more unhinged and insane because baby doe doesn't believe in subtlety and was the one who needed to be held back when a fight was about to begin

her nickname became baby doe because once she started walking, she very quickly took to running, and like a baby doe, there needed to be an entire searching party to look for her if it took too long for her to get back

ever since they were kids, Robb Stark would want two people to sit next to him during meals at the Great Hall: Jon and his Doe

so when Theon Greyjoy came to winterfell, he was nice to the boy because he was glad to have another friend, but he was NOT a fan at how his Doe kept sitting next to the boy now

but he supposed it would be okay because then doe came running toward him all excited and happy and adorable when she started spouting how she got her brother to agree to be a brother to Theon

if Jory became Theon's brother, then Theon would be doe's brother

brothers and sisters can't marry or fall in love, at least not in the way of the old gods, meaning that Theon and doe would never marry

Robb's mood was much better since then, much to the confusion from his mother and amusement from his father

Jory thought he was hallucinating.

she walking toward him with her big, doe eyes. her hand was clutching Theon Greyjoy's.

it was a funny sight to see how his baby sister, who was still so small, dragging a boy taller than her until she stood before him with that little twinkle in her eyes.

"Uncle Rodrik was being mean to Theon," she said. "I told him he was being mean and a hippogriff because he told me i have to be nice, but then he wasn't nice!"

Jory held back a snicker and just nodded.

"Yes, that was mean, but why did you bring him here, baby Doe?"

she pulled out her pout and quivering lip and Jory knew whatever she was going to ask from him, he'd say yes.

"Well, after Uncle Rodrik was mean, I asked Theon to show me how to shoot an arrow. And then Theon told me he doesn't have any brothers because they all died! And that made me so sad because if you died, I'd never be happy again!"

Theon groaned and softly elbowed her ribs as his face became red.

he groaned. "Doe, I told you not to tell anyone about that."

she turned to her new friend with an angry look and angrily stomped the dirt with her little foot.

"Of course I'm telling about it! You're my friend, and I don't like people being mean to my friends!"

Jory leans forward and picks her up until she looked like she was flying and her little legs were kicking in the air and she couldn't stop her giggles until he put her back on the ground again.

"Very good, baby Doe. But why did you bring him here?"

"I want you to be his brother like with me! Can you do that Jory? Pleaseeeeeeeeee? No one should be alone!"

...and of course, Jory said yes.

the huge smile on her face and she cheered and tackled him to the ground to thank him told him that he made the right decision.

since then, whenever Jory and Doe would go to the godswoods, ride through the wolf woods, or go fishing at acorn waters - Theon would be there with them.

for the first time since he was taken from home, Theon Greyjoy felt like he wasn't an outsider.

he felt like he wasn't a hostage held captive by his father's enemy who aided a king who slaughtered thousands of his father's men.

he felt like a boy who had a younger sister who was his best friend, and he was her's, and it felt like he never knew what it felt like being alone in the first place at all.

Robb Stark was not happy.

he was very not happy.

his mother had just given birth to his new baby sister, Arya Stark, and since then, he hasn't had a moment alone with Doe.

normally she would always be the first one in the courtyard, ready to train with him, Jon, and Theon under her Uncle Rodrik and brother, Jory.

but lately, all she's been doing is helping out his mother with his new sister - she's even been playing with Sansa!

Doe didn't hate his little sister - in fact, she liked Sansa very much, but Sansa liked boring stuff like playing princesses or dressing up or stitching.

and Doe wasn't boring...she was different from other girls at winterfell.

she loved to run in the woods and train with swords.

she hated wearing dresses and never bothered to learn how to braid her hair because she would just use the little leather string to hold it.

she loved playing snow wars during the summer snows and neer minded getting mud on her breeches.

but now...now she wasn't playing with him anymore and spending time with Sansa instead of him...it was very annoying.

and what's worse - Jon didn't get it, and neither did Theon.

Jon just shrugged when he complained. "Lady Stark needs help because she just gave birth to a baby."

Robb rolled his eyes. "I know that - but why is she spending all her time with Sansa? She doesn't even like playing princesses or stitching!"

Theon scoffed. "Your mum's spending all her time now with the new baby instead of Sansa, duh. If your sister's not kept busy or played with, then Lady Stark'll have two screaming babies."

Theon wasn't happy that Doe was spending time with the prissy little lady who was too much like her mother - always looking at him with an upturned nose and uppity attitude.

but he knew if he wasn't having a good time, his doe was having an even worse time.

Robb still pouted - he hated feeling like this, he didn't like it.

it was like that time when he caught doe being nice and playing the blacksmith's son and not him and he marched over to grab her wrist and dragged her away from him

Theon snickered. "Don't worry - Sansa'll get over it and you'll get your little lady back before you know it."

Robb's face turned bright red as Jon and Theon laughed at his expression.

"SHE IS NOT MY-"

"What're you lot screamin' for?"

Robb turned around and there she was, staring at her friends with a confused expression at the screaming she heard from her lord's son.

she burst out laughing at how he was gaping at her like a fish out of water.

She shoved his arm and walked ahead. "Come on! Septa Mor-dumb finally let me out! Let's get outta here before she changes her mind!"

she took off running with laughs echoing through the woods and all the boys followed after her.

it was the best day Robb had in so long: he spent the entire day running, fishing, playing, and climbing.

the four finally calmed down and stopped to rest underneath the red leaves of the weirwood tree.

Theon and Jon were fast asleep while Robb and Doe were still awake and talking.

"...Hey Doe?"

She turned to him. "Yeah?"

"Who do you like more: me or Sansa?"

She blinked before answering with a big smile. "You, of course, dummy! Sansa's not nearly as fun! And I knew you way longer - of course I like you more!"

the next time Doe played with Sansa, Robb didn't complain.

because he knew that no matter how many siblings he had, he'd always be her favorite Stark.

...Theon and Jon still keep teasing him about it though...whatever, they were just jealous.

these two are so in love and are so obvious and everyone knows it but them smh

@dipperscavern is literally my wife - we're married, we eloped, and second in command!reader is our baby

@ghostinvenus i hope you don't mind me tagging you, but there's gonna be a lot more brainrot for our doe 🤣

[ladystoneboobs]

no of fence to jon snow fans who for some reason care about his exact age, but these discussions just annoy me no end. not only bc there's no way any weirwood flashbacks bran has to rhaegar/lyanna will come with time/datestamps, but also bc there's always comments like this:

SEVERAL turns of the moon (ie, months)?! have these people never seen a human baby before or just have no concept of their ages? even if we take into account travel time from the toj to wf, meaning jon was not a newborn too fresh out the oven when catelyn and robb arrived, there's still a difference between a newborn and a 3mo and an even bigger difference between those infants and an older baby 5-7mo. there's very good reasons these lines were cut. whatever birthdates can be worked out internally for jon and robb from when they're first mentioned as 15 and 16 don't matter in the end, bc grrm doesn't care about a consistent timeline and the actual text of catelyn's pov and ned's convo with robert about cheating on her should outweigh any guesstimates about jon's official nameday wrt robb's. catelyn may not have cared for jon, but she would sure as hell have noticed his nameday if it came before robb's and made him ned's firstborn. if jon's birthday canonically came before robb's then either ned's cover story would not involve adultery (not impossible for him to sire a bastard before his wedding), or he'd just give jon a new nameday along with his new name to fit the adultery lie. it makes no sense for him to lie about one and not the other, undermining the big lie with a little public clue of his story not adding up. whatever else she was as a stepmother, cat wasn't stupid and a bastard who was actually the eldest son being raised alongside her trueborn heir could be an even bigger insult than whether he was born of adultery or not.

BUT, the unknowability of jon's true birthday is not the only reason this annoys me, it's bc this is all based on the assumption that jon must be older since rhaegar/lyanna ran off together before ned married cat, as if both boys must have been conceived asap as robb canonically was when his parents consummated their marriage. and that's not how human reproduction works! even if you don't understand how fast babies grow in the first year, you should know that people who get pregnant do so through ovulation cycles and a lucky sperm finding an egg and all that, not just immediately getting knocked up as soon as one has p-in-v sex for the first time. not unless you only know mean girls sex ed where if you have sex you will get pregnant and die. (even tho lyanna did die, there's plenty of canon examples where pregnancy did not lead straight to death. also examples of people who did not get pregnant right away and even some who are/were sexually active and childless without always having moon tea on hand.) we can't know how long lyanna was having sex before that sperm+egg match happened or even how long she was with rhaegar before losing her technical virginity. if they were married, doesn't it make sense to think they didn't consummate their relationship until the wedding night either? that's the only leverage there is to ensure a status as wife rather than just mistress.

and while i just said grrm doesn't care about exact timelines and a lot is still foggy surrounding the rebellion and esp rhaegar, there is one timemarker wrt robert's rebellion he voluntarily threw in, time and time again: that stannis was besieged at storm's end for almost a whole year. that siege, which mind you, did not match the duration of the entire war. it only started after robert won his battles at gulltown and summerhall, returned to storm's end, and then went out and lost the battle of ashford, leaving his homeland open to the reachermen. the same siege which only ended when ned made a detour there after the sack of king's landing, before going to the toj. even if lyanna may not have given birth that exact day ned found her, she could only be waiting in that bloody bed for weeks at the most, not months. so if rhaegar knocked her up the very same night he carried her off and jon was still a newborn when ned found her after the siege of storm's end had ended, wouldn't that mean lyanna was pregnant for well over a year? that's not how human pregnancy works either! so, maybe that's proof that jon and robb, whichever order they were actually born in, were actually very close in age as babies, much closer than if they were both conceived asap.

and really, jon's actual birthdate does not matter imho, when he was raised not just as the bastard to robb's trueborn heir, but with robb also known by catelyn and the world as ned's firstborn (which he was, in any case, as jon was ned's nephew by birth). what difference could a birthdate before robb's make (even were there some means of discovery) after ned, cat, and robb are all dead? if one is looking only at his birth parents then he's only a firstborn child on lyanna's side, but definitely a second son on rhaegar's side. maybe he was always meant to be a second son with a not much older half-brother! even if the aegon fka young griff is not in fact rhaegar's son, he'll still be known as aegon vi targaryen, meaning jon will never be known as any father's elder son. if i may reference mean girls again, it's not going to happen.

[adoptable-fanfic-prompts]

During the 170s AC, House Tully faced quite a scandal: the heir of Riverrun had fallen in love and married a commoner, a woman with dark curls for hair and a lovely set of violet eyes. What made it worse was that little was known about her family’s history, save that she was raised by her fisherman grandfather who had lost his memory as a boy. In the end, they decided to hide the embarrassment away, eventually disappearing from their history save for a few members that kept the story alive yet secret.

It was too bad as it became somewhat relevant years later, especially for when Catelyn Tully (now Stark) had her children. For not only did each proclaimed child of Eddard Stark have a direwolf…

… each one eventually acquired a dragon…

[shining-m00nlight]

41

41. “I love you and all, but you’re really stretching your luck right now.”

Catelyn Starks finds her husband in a pile of puppies. He now has to explain to her. (A very classic the Starks are getting diewolfs fic.)

Catelyn raised her eyebrow while looking at her husband, who was sitting on the living room floor with six puppies in his lap.

She wanted to say so many things at that moment but finally settled on telling her husband: "I love you and all, but you're really stretching your luck right now."

"Oh, come on. Cat. Look at them. They are so fluffy." Ned told her, taking one of the puppys and holding it next to his face and looking at her with eyes so big they rivalled the dog’s.

"No, no, no! I don't wanna look at them! I looked at them long enough to count them. There are six of them! Six!"

It's not like she hates dogs but she really couldn't handle the thought of having six dogs to take care of.

"Don't think of it like six dogs, love. I think you should first take our children into consideration. We have six of them as well. So it’s six dogs and six children. One dog for each child. That would mean, zero dogs for you."

Ned spoke as if he just figured out the solution to world hunger. She looked at her husband with suspicion.

"Did the kids coach you to say this? Did they actually convince you that they are responsible enough to take care of six dogs?"

"Well they did make some really compelling arguments. Having a dog teaches responsibility. And with each of them having their own dog, there will be no fighting about who is responsible for what because they will all have clearly defined responsibilities."

"Ned, I know you love telling our sons they are almost grown men while they are still wearing diapers to bed. But do you really believe our three year old, who regularly sleeps in bed with us because his “teddy” had a nightmare, who we dress, who we still cut food for, who we basically still do everything for, as we should, since you how he is three, can actually take care of another living thing by himself?

Hell do you even believe our fourteen year olds can take care of another living creature completely by themselves? Because I don't. Which means somebody has to pick up all the things they can't or won't do. And that will be me and I will end up taking care of six dogs."

After that Ned was quiet. Not having a good argument against his wife. But one of the puppies escaped his lap and stumbled towards Catelyn now.

Cat looked at the little dog with caution, he was completely black and was making small japs at her. But she was determined not to let herself get swayed just because a small pup looked at her.

"No! Do not come closer. I don't want you in my space?" she told the little black puppy.

Of course the small creature that by now had reached her feet didn't listen. The black dog was trying to jump up her leg. She tried very hard to ignore the little paws at her legs and the admittedly adorable whines coming from the floor.

In the end, despite her inner fighting, she was unsuccessful.

Catelyn made the mistake of looking down and into the puppy's eyes, those big, beautiful, innocent eyes. She couldn't help herself. She reached down to give the creature a quick pet on the head.

But the little monster immediately used her moment of weakness to cuddle himself into her hand. Ned was right he was really fluffy but she was still determined not to fold just because of a bit of soft fur.

“Ned, we really really can’t keep them,” she told her husband, trying to make him see reason.

“But Cat, look at him, look at how much he loves you already. And if we keep them, imagine getting six times of puppy love every day.”

“But also, six times walking, six times collecting poop, six times feeding and six times more cleaning because their fur will be all over everything! Ned, you need to see reason.”

“Ok, how about this, we make a deal with the kids. If they don’t take care of their dogs, as much as is reasonable for their age, they have to give the dogs back. And I promise you that all the responsibilities the kids are too young for will fall on me and you have to do nothing”

At Cat’s raised eyebrow Ned quickly added, “Basically nothing, maybe a few little things when I am not here. But I will give you a reward each time.

Catelyn had to smile a bit. "Are you gonna pay me 10$ an hour for walking the dogs like one would do for the neighbor kids?"

Ned also smiled at his wife. While they talked he had carefully placed the five remaining puppies from his lap into a bundled up blanket pile and then started walking toward his wife. When he reached her, he hugged her from behind with one hand around her hip, while the other reached for the black puppy himself.

"I know this will be a big adjustment and I promise I will be the person most responsible for all of it. But when Benjen brought them the kids were so happy. They even each picked one without fighting. This little one is Rickons by the way.

Benjen found them behond the wall, their mother died and now they don't have anyone. If Benjen can't find anyone to take them he will have to euthanize them or put them back behond the wall where they would die.

And there's basically no one but us to take them in. It is against the law to have them outside the North, you also need a special license to keep them as well as proof of massive available space for them. It is not something most people can provide. But we could since we have moved to Winterfell after dad died."

She knew he didn't mention his fathers recent death to get her to soften up, he wasn't manipulative after all but it still did. The passing of his father had hurt her husband a lot and now that she thought back on it she hadn't seen him as happy as he has been sitting in the pile of puppies in a while.

"You have a dog holding license like that? I didn't know that."

"Oh yes, it is still from my childhood. My dad had them from before we were born and we grew up with them. They died when I was a teenagers but me and my siblings still decided to get the license when we were adults."

Something about this revile made her brain itch but she couldn't put a finger on why. For now she decided to ignore it. Because while he didn't say it, Cat could hear in her husband's voice that the dogs obviously meant a lot to him and those little ones probably reminded him of the dogs he grew up with. Still snuggled into her husband and holding the little furball, her resolve broke.

"I guess if the kids and you really promise to care for the dogs and I will never be responsible for bathing any of them, we can try to keep them. Try! The emphasis is on try!

If in two weeks I'm sitting here with six dogs while you all are busy with something else I will personally call Benjen to pick them up and bring them back to where they came from!"

Her husband hugged her a bit tighter from behind and whispered

"You are the best mother and wife. I promise we will all be on our best behavior. Me, the kids and the dogs."

"You better keep that promise."

"I will and the kids will promise too."

Suddenly there was a storm of little people all yelling different versions of ,we will,"we'll take good care of them" and "we promise". Now she had her daughters at each of her sides hugging her, kissing her face, saying "thank you, thank you" all over again, her two younger sons trying to squeeze into her lap at the same time almost squishing the puppy, that still resided there and her two oldest trying to put their arms around the whole bundled up family.

"You are the best mom ever" exclaimed her smaller daughter right into her ear.

Cat turned to her and marvelled at the beautiful smile Anya gifted her. There was nothing more beautiful than her children's smiles but Arya's was always special to her.

Arya didn't often share true full smiles with her as they often clashed when Arya wouldn't like or listen to what her mother told her. But when she truly smiled, Cat was reminded so much of Ned that her heart would melt in an instant.

"Well, please remember that if this doesn't work out and the dogs have to go again" she said to remind them all that this was not a yes without conditions.

She still smiled at all of her children. She really did hope they would show enough responsibility to take care of the dogs. They seemed so happy and she wanted them to stay that way.

"Yes, if this doesn't work out and the puppies need to go, you have only yourself to blame. You can not be mad at your mother." Ned added sternly.

Cat was really grateful for her husband's words. She didn't really want to end up being the only bad guy if this went down south.

"But the puppies won't have to. We will be the best puppy caretakers ever and we train them to be the best behaved puppies ever." Robb chimed in. Jon was nodding his head in agreement.

Cat spent the next hours still on the living room floor together with her family being introduced to six little puppys. Cat was amused by how the puppies seemed to perfectly fit her children's personalities. The little black one that she now knew was Shaggydog, was running around and yapping at everyone if nobody gave him attention.

Arya's dog Nymeria was not far behind. Sansa's dog Lady could almost be described as polite, while Beans dog, who didn't have a name yet, was constantly trying to climb the furniture. The white wolf, Ghost, that belonged to Jon was quiet and listened very well for such a little puppy.

Robb's Greywind seemed as if he was trying to keep an eye on all of his siblings, barking at Shaggy when he tried to jump on the other puppies and at the unnamed dog when he tried to climb on a particularly high piece of furniture.

Catelyn had seldomly enjoyed herself so much in her life. She had all of her children around her, she was in her husband's arms and everybody was basically vibrating with happiness.

When she laid in her husband's arms in bed that night, she thought that she could handle six dogs if they would gift her family this much delight. She could exept having to clean up behind the little furmonsters if it gave her children the possibility of being woken up by their sweet little puppies licking their face, so they might appear less grumpy at the breakfast table.

And Ned was right. Winterfell was a perfect home for dogs with its wide spaces and the Godswoods attached to it. That thought sparked a memory at something Ned had said to her today that she hadn't truly understood but had put off for the moment.

"Ned?" she whispered.

"Yes, my Love?" he answered her in the same calm whisper.

"Why do these dogs require so many laws about where they are allowed to live? Which breed of dogs are forbidden outside the North?"

Ned didn't answer her. He kept quiet and stared up at the ceiling. Cat got a bit suspicious.

"Ned? Will you answer my question?"

Ned coughed: "Yes, well you see... Technically, they might not actually be dogs"

"What?"

"They are kind of direwolves." Ned confessed.

"NED! WHAT THE F---"

[mybeautifulbeautifuleternal]

Robb was staring. He couldn’t help himself. You had caught his eye the very first minute he saw you and hadn’t let it go since. Luckily, he didn’t have too, married as the two of you were. The days since the betrothal announcement had flown by, you having arrived in Winterfell shortly after your fathers had signed the agreement. Neither man wanted their child to marry a complete stranger for all the fact that you hadn’t met each other before then, so Lord Stark had arranged for you to spend some time in the Northern stronghold.

Robb had been teased relentlessly by Theon and had even taken some jabs from Jon about you before your arrival, Theon not shy about whispering into his ear over his shoulder as the family lined up to greet you when your party was spotted.

The sight of you climbing from your carriage had brought the teasing to a dead-stop. Robb hadn’t noticed the lack of it — he hadn’t noticed anything but the way the weak sunshine gave you a halo of light and sent your skin glowing. He was glad that you moved to greet his father and mother first because he knew he wouldn’t be able to make his tongue work. It was tangled in his mouth, twisted upon itself when the sight of you had taken the breath from his lungs.

When you turned your eyes to him, Robb knew he’d never have you look anywhere else again so stunning were the color of them. Gratifyingly, you had the same thoughts.

In the weeks after your arrival, Robb and you were never seen far from each other, orbiting each like celestial beings. He knew his family was glad he got along with his to-be wife. It was more than that to him though — more than that for you as well, whispering the secret to him in the Godswood underneath the Heart tree where soon enough you would be promising yourselves to each other.

“I couldn’t think when I first saw you. The sun had set your hair aflame and your eyes shone like gemstones. I couldn’t believe that I was lucky enough to be married to you. I knew as soon as I saw you that I loved you,” the words were quiet, something for just Robb and his gods. The depths of his feelings kept growing, the words a confirmation that the bond between the two of you was extraordinary. He told you that he had felt the same, telling you about how he felt like he couldn’t talk with how useless his tongue had become.

There had been no words in Robb’s head when he saw you at the door to the Sept. The Starks might not have kept to the Seven but your family did and had asked for a marriage under them. It had been you who asked for a Northern marriage as well, wanting to assimilate to the North as best as you could. Robb was glad for both ceremonies. The Northern one for his sake and the Southern one for the stunning dress you wore. Shaped to fit you, the sight of you walking down the aisle sent his heart racing. And when he took you under his protection, cloaking you under the Stark colors…he nearly bit his tongue off trying to keep the pleased and possessive growl inside his chest.

He lost the fight later that night after the bedding ceremony and he was sure the entire castle could hear the pleasures he dragged from you, could see the owning marks he lined across your neck and collarbones. He didn’t care, wanting to announce to the world that you were now a Stark, his lady wife. Plus, you had left an equal number of marks on his neck and back that he proudly displayed. The looks of censure on his family’s faces didn't matter to him when compared to the look of satisfaction that crossed your face when you caught sight of them.

Now, with the Royal family joining them in Winterfell, the Starks were putting on a small ball. A celebration for the Baratheons that had taken the long journey north. Robb wasn’t much for dancing but as he had found out since marrying you — there wasn’t much that he wouldn’t do to see that kind of happiness across your face. If that meant finally learning the steps to all the court dances, so be it.

He had begged off a dance for a chance to rest his feet and grab a drink, allowing you to sweep Sansa off in a fun ditty. The two of you swinging around the room was a sight to see and he was glad for it. Robb’s mother had sat him down before your arrival and gave him a talk about how best to welcome you, giving examples about how she had felt disconnected from the people around her when she first made the journey. It had placed a small fear in him that you would have trouble in the North. He knew that people from the South had some negative feelings about the so-called ‘savages’ of the Northmen and it worried Robb that you would have those same thoughts. The swift friendships between his siblings and you had out that fear to rest.

When he saw the looks other men were shooting you, he heaved himself to his feet again, prowling toward you, pulling you from Sansa and deeper into his arms, curling them around you. He wanted you near him, a declaration to everyone else to back off. He had been blessed with a wife that was as in love with him as he was with her and he wasn’t going to let anyone ruin that.

[alexgurpeverell]

Ice, Frost & Hidden Fire: Ascent

(A fanfiction idea, that I thought of, a long time ago...maybe someone will see this and write it. Maybe, I don't' know.)

 Main Pairings:

Jon Stark x Alys Karstark

Robb Stark x Ysilla Royce

Jon Snow, believed to be the bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark, carries a secret legacy as the bastard son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Lady Lyanna Stark. Hidden behind the guise of a Stark bastard, Jon's journey takes unexpected turns as he forges his destiny far beyond the icy confines of the North.

At the tender age of ten, Jon departs Winterfell, leaving behind the only home he has ever known. His path leads him to Essos, where he joins the renowned Sellsword Army known as the "Company of the Rose." For four years, Jon battles alongside the fierce mercenaries, climbing the ranks and earning the respect of seasoned warriors despite his youth.

A turning point comes at the age of fourteen when Jon, now a chief captain, convinces the Company to return to Westeros after almost three centuries of self-imposed exile. With the Company at his back, he journeys northward to reunite with the family he left behind.

Lord Eddard Stark, upon Jon's return, is overwhelmed with joy and welcomes Jon with open arms and tearful eyes, witnessing the maturity and prowess that time and experience have bestowed upon his secret nephew. In a moment of revelation, Lord Stark unveils Jon's true lineage, exposing the Targaryen blood that courses through his veins. Yet, to Jon, the man who raised him is and always will be his true father.

In recognition of his accomplishments, Jon is legitimized as a Stark by King Robert at the request of Lord Stark and granted a vast expanse of land in the "New Gift." Jon, along with the loyal Company of the Rose who chose to follow him, embarks on the construction of Queenscrown—a testament to his newfound identity. A town flourishes around it, a symbol of unity between the Northern Kingdom and the returned exiles.

As Jon matures into adulthood, news of Lord Arryn's passing and King Robert's journey to the North herald a new chapter.

-

Continuing from the tapestry woven by fate, Jon Stark finds himself amidst the tumultuous War of the Five Kings, where the North's honor is stained by betrayal and the echoes of injustice reverberate through the realm. Robb Stark, Jon's cousin, but known to the world as his brother, rises as the King in the North, leading the charge against the treacherous Lannisters after the wrongful imprisonment and execution of their beloved father, Lord Eddard Stark.

As the North rallies under Robb's banner, Jon stands as the Hand to his liege lord, brother, and kin. Together, they navigate the intricacies of war, duty, honor, politics, and even matters of the heart. In the heart of the South, where shadows dance across the ruins of shattered alliances, the true sons of the North forge a bond that transcends blood.

Jon, with his experiences from the Company of the Rose, proves to be an invaluable advisor to Robb. His tactical and ruthless brilliance, tempered by the lessons of Essos, complements Robb's leadership. They face the challenge of uniting the North, Riverlands, and other loyal bannermen against the might of the Lannisters, marking their path with the indomitable spirit of House Stark.

Amidst the chaos of battle, Jon and Robb find solace in brotherhood, their bond strengthening with each passing hardship. Jon, the loyal Hand, stands by Robb's side in the face of hardship, forging alliances, and navigating the perilous landscape of Southern politics. And as the war and politics entwine, Jon grapples with his Targaryen blood.

The legacy they seek to carve is a complex mosaic, woven with threads of honor, sacrifice, and the unwavering commitment to justice.

As the War of the Five Kings reaches its zenith, the brothers Stark navigate the chaos with resilience and cunning. Battles are fought, alliances are made, and in the crucible of war, their bond becomes unbreakable. United in purpose and driven by an unyielding determination, Jon and Robb Stark strive to overcome every challenge in their path, leaving an indelible mark on the annals of Westerosi history.

-

-

-

Jon's Character: Jon Stark stands as a formidable force, an enigmatic figure shaped by the dual legacies of House Stark and the Targaryens. His mind, a labyrinth of cunning strategies and long-term planning, echoes the pragmatism of his ancestor, Brynden Rivers. With the stark gaze of a direwolf and the blood of dragons coursing through his veins, Jon exemplifies a unique blend of Northern stoicism and Targaryen determination.

-Cunning Mind:

Jon's intellect is a beacon on the battlefield and in the political labyrinth of Westeros. His keen understanding of strategy, acquired through years of leading the Company of the Rose in Essos, sets him apart as a master tactician. His mind, akin to a chessboard, envisions not just the current move but the cascading repercussions of each decision. Jon's long-term planning reflects a rare foresight, allowing him to anticipate the ebb and flow of conflict and politics alike.

-Battle Skills:

As a chief captain of the Company of the Rose, Jon honed his combat skills amidst the chaos of Essos. His sword is an extension of his will—a lethal dance in the hands of a maestro. On the battlefield, Jon is an embodiment of controlled ferocity, striking with precision and adapting to the ever-shifting tides of war. Whether it's leading a cavalry charge or orchestrating a cunning ambush, Jon's prowess makes him a force to be reckoned with.

-Unbreakable Loyalty:

At the core of Jon's character lies an unyielding loyalty to his brother, Robb Stark. Their bond is not merely one of blood but a testament to shared hardship and the crucible of war. Jon's loyalty is unwavering, a bedrock upon which the foundations of their alliance are built. His commitment extends beyond familial ties, transcending into a brotherhood forged in the crucible of conflict. The direwolf sigil adorning Jon's banner is a symbol not only of House Stark but of the unity between two brothers bound by destiny.

-Resemblance to Bloodraven:

Jon's likeness extends to the core of their beings. Both are pragmatic, long-time planners with a mastery of macro-management. Their cunning minds perceive the intricate web of politics and war, manipulating it to their advantage. Ruthlessness, a shared trait, defines their approach to enemies. Like Bloodraven, Jon is willing to make sacrifices, understanding that sometimes the greater good demands personal costs.

[kloethewriter]

Does anyone have an Starkling (The Stark siblings) or Stark family prompts? Like I’m in the mood to write especially them but I’m just not inspired or have an idea what to write. Would really appreciate them!

[omelaslost]

Prey Sigil

•───────•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•───────•

Prompt: Their s/o’s family sigil is something that is prey to theirs. Characters: Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy, Cersei Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Tyrion Lannister “You Westerosi are all the same. You sew some beast upon a scrap of silk, and suddenly you are all lions or dragons or eagles.” – Illyrio Mopatis, A Dance with Dragons, Tyrion I

•───────•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•───────•

Robb Stark

Sigil: Rabbit / Hare ✿ Robb would likely find it somewhat amusing. He definitely sees the humor in the direwolf joining with the hare and would occasionally joke about it with you. ✿ He would probably give you a pet name like “my little rabbit” or something along those lines. Though, he would only call you that in private once you are more familiar with one other. He might affectionately refer to you as his rabbit to those he is close to after a while. ✿ The tone of his pet name for you would depend on your personality, but the fondness (and teasing) in it would be the same. ✿ Robb is a protective person, and he would be protective of you regardless, but especially if you’re more meek and less likely to stand up for yourself. Rabbits are often seen as symbols of innocence and vulnerability, so he would find that your house’s sigil is fitting. ✿ Now, if you’re more confident and assertive, he would be much more teasing in calling you a rabbit. He would likely add that you were his “fierce little rabbit” and say that there was a wolf in you yet. ✿ He would commission small wood carvings of a direwolf and a rabbit that you keep on your bedside table as a wedding or anniversary gift. They are not to be separated. ✿ If the two of you were to discuss having children (he does need his heir), he would refer to them as “wobbits”. ✿ On that topic, another thing that rabbits are well-known for is how quickly they reproduce (eg “fucking like rabbits”), and so he would probably joke and tease you about that in the privacy of your bedchamber. ✿ You kinda need to be a rabbit to keep up with his ass honestly. ✿ He is very eager to have “a full brood of wobbits hopping around”

Theon Greyjoy

Sigil: A ship with ten fish (Krakens are difficult okay)

✿ Bro’s got jokes (and they aren’t funny) ✿ He’s just a really handsy person in general. He likes to have his hands on you whenever he can. If he can pull you onto his lap and wrap his arms around you waist, he will. It is not a matter of if: it is absolutely a matter of when. ✿ Literally, his favorite thing is to catch your waist when you’re walking by and just pull you down onto him when you’re least expecting it. Just like a Kracken would pull a ship down into the sea. ✿ He just likes to be wrapped around you (he says he thinks he prefers it when you’re wrapped around him, but this isn’t about that). ✿ Except it is about that because most of the jokes he makes will be sexual. ✿ Before he goes down on you, he would jest about a Kraken eating (out) a ship. When he finds how wet you are, he would say that you were flooding/swamping and that it was time for him to sink (into) you. ✿ If you don’t find him funny, he might stop (maybe), but he finds himself funny and that’s all that matters. (He isn't funny). ✿ Very specific, but if you can’t swim, he would never let you hear the end of it. He would offer to teach you (since a boat should know how to float), and while a genuine effort would be made, he would also play around with you in the water, pulling you down into the water. Probably ends up almost drowning you once or twice (accidental baptism, what is dead may never die 🙏). ✿ He actually would likely enjoy being wet with you though, whether you can swim or not. Whether it’s in the hot springs in the godswood of Winterfell or just in a tub during a bath, he’d like how you look with water dripping down your body. He’d joke that you’re both in your natural habitat… mostly. ✿ Gods have mercy if he ever gets you with child because now the ship is manned and he would not shut up about it. The Kraken added life to the ship instead of taking from it.

Cersei Lannister

Sigil: Antelope

✿ She would feel slightly annoyed that an antelope is similar to a stag, but she would eventually learn to ignore it (until you do something that annoys her, then she remembers again and makes it your problem, but you shouldn’t have annoyed her, so it’s actually still your fault).

✿ But you’re not a stag, she would remind herself. An antelope is not a stag; they are prettier than a stag and more graceful. You’re not Robert. You’re not a King; you’re beneath her in every way, and she finds comfort in that.

✿ As you can guess, your relationship likely would not be the healthiest.

✿ Cersei would like to brand you as hers in some way, but she knows that she would have to do it discreetly, so she would use your own coat of arms to do it. You can expect certain gifts from her, as rewards for your services.

✿ Accessories for your hair, shaped similarly to antelope horns, rings with grooves similar to that of an antelope, and she would sneak some reds and golds into them, along with the colors of your own house.

✿ Another way she would “brand” you would be by biting you. As much as she would like to leave it somewhere visible, she is more sensible than that. Your thighs are free game though. You’d be able to tell if she’s upset with you (or in general) by whether she draws blood or not. She would tend to take certain emotions out on you. If you whimper, she would remind you that this is what you’re here for. You’re an antelope, and she is the lion.

✿ She’s also clawing the absolute hell out of the back of your neck while you’re eating her out, but it’s okay because you’ll just wear your hair in a way that hides it.

Jaime Lannister

Sigil: Striped Horse (Zebra) [Note: I don’t think Zebras are ever name-dropped in ASOIAF. Zorses are, but not Zebras. But Zorses come from Zebras and I like Zebras so we’re using Zebras ok? cool.] ✿ You will never get a chance to ask him to do anything without him saying that the striped horse should not give be giving orders to the lion (but he will still do what you asked… if he feels like it and begrudgingly. But if he thinks it would be funnier to ignore your request, you’re on your own).

✿ Big “I know the striped horse is not talking rn” energy whenever you say anything ever. Unfortunately, bullying is one of his love languages.

✿ He would be similar to Cersei in the aspect that he would want you to have some piece of him that connects you to him, thus in a way branding you, but he would also want to have a piece of you that connects him to you.

✿ He is more likely to give you something with a lion on it straight up but perhaps in your colors. He might subtly take on your colors as well with something small with plausible deniability. For example, he carried a white ribbon on him (he is a knight of the Kingsguard, so it would not be questioned) and you carry a black one on you. If he were feeling more daring, he might take the black ribbon while you keep the white. He keeps it for good luck but would openly deny doing such a thing if you mentioned it.

✿ He is a yearner (something else he denies). If he is away from you for a certain amount of time, he will begin to find ways to see you in everything. He sees horses and that makes him think of striped horses and then that makes him think of you because that’s your house’s sigil. He sees a black and white cat, and you know what else is black and white? A striped horse :(

✿ Would literally bite your ass while undressing you, but it would be more of a nip than an actual bite. If your eyes widened and you looked down at him in shock, he would just smirk and say, “What? I’m a lion.”

✿ He would enjoy pinning you down in bed and playfully taunting you while nipping at your skin. He’d like it if you ‘fought back’ just so he can pin you down again.

Tyrion Lannister

Sigil: Warthog ✿ He would find a bit of irony in the idea of him being a lion and your somehow being a warthog and he would probably make self-deprecating jokes about it, likely that he thinks it should be reversed. He thinks that you are strong and beautiful like a lion, whereas he would put his appearance something closer to a warthog. But Tyrion does hold some complicated pride in being a lion, and he would be happy to make you one as well. ✿ He would probably do something similar to Robb, having something commissioned to honor both of your houses, but it would likely be on a grander scale (might as well put that Lannister gold to good use). Instead of wood carvings, it would likely be marble figures with rubies for the lion’s eyes and a stone of your house’s colors for your warthog. He would be very happy if you liked them. ✿ At some point in the relationship, he would jest that you’re certainly the prettiest pig that he has ever seen, that is for sure… and then immediately backpedal, saying perhaps he should not liken you to a pig. If you found humor in it, he would be relieved. ✿ Tyrion would have fun with it. He’s a very knowledgeable person, so he likely has some fun facts about warthogs stored up there to bring out whenever you do something he can compare it to. You’re somewhere you’re not supposed to be? Hogging (ha) the blankets? Well, warthogs are notorious trespassers and thieves (they steal other animals’ burrows) and you are truly a testament to that. ✿ He will have most definitely make the comment that he has no desire to strip the skin from your bones, but he does wish to strip you of something before reaching for your clothing. ✿ Cersei would be quite fond of your coat of arms, even more so once it is joined with the lion. A warthog is not a boar, but they are close enough in appearance as far as she is concerned. She would commission you clothes just to see a lion and a “boar” close together whenever she sees you, and she would pass it off as a good-sisterly gift. Tyrion suspects that his sister finds glee in the prospect because of how King Robert died (he is correct).

[missswritesalot]

Can I request something with Robb stark x shy reader. She is very quiet and a good wife too rob, but she loves seeing him be a true king to his people so when someone comes along and tries to knock him down a few pegs she speaks up and reminds said person of who they are speaking to leaving Robb speechless and a little turned on. You can end it there or add in a little smut if you want. Thank youuu

A/N requests open! Hope you enjoy, anon! There is just a sprinkle of nsfw at the end, but I tagged it with smut just to be safe ;) i think i used the word shy like a million times. Reblog/Comment if you want more!

You and your husband, Robb, were touring the North and providing supplies to the smallfolk to support them through the Winter. There were many grievances to address and you held court at all the small towns.

You hated the attention, and it was a small mercy that you rarely had to speak. Even when Robb needed your counsel, he asked for it in private so you weren’t embarrassed. The eyes of the people on you were enough to mortify you, yet you bore your discomfort silently and stood by his side.

At one such hearing, Robb ordered the Lords of the lesser Northern houses to visit. You were seated next to him on your throne, Greywind sleeping on the raised floor at your feet.

“The old ways have served the North fruitfully for years. Listen carefully, one war does not make a boy a man and you are yet to know the ways of the world.” Lord Karstark said, wagging a wrinkled finger at Robb.

It was the third time he had questioned your husband in front of his Council. You were furious.

All Robb had suggested was reducing the great burden of supporting lesser houses with tithes from the peasants. Many smallfolks families were missing men and weapons due to the war, and winter was coming. It would be his first Winter as King of the North and he wanted all his subjects to survive, not just the noblemen.

You thought it was admirable. You also knew how hard he worked, spending almost all nights this week pouring over papers and accounts.

“Don’t forget yourself, I am the King,” Robb chided him. Greywind woke up and went to him, a silent threat.

“No man that calls himself King is a true-“ Lord Karstark began in his crotchety old voice. Anger coursed through your veins. How dare this senile old man try to insult your husband.

You cleared your throat. The hall fell silent. Robb frowned and turned to look at you. His wife was a woman of few words but they were all worth hearing.

“My King husband would have no need of repeating his station if you would remember it, my Lord. And if you cannot, then perhaps in the evening of one’s life we must accept our limitations and resign to things we are capable of.” You said calmly, yet sharply. Robb’s jaw dropped in awe.

It took Karstark’s slow mind a moment longer to process.

“Control your tongue, woman,” he said said, eyes wild, pointing to you.

“Disrespect the Queen and you will feel my blade,” Robb yelled, stepping down from the throne and pulling out Ice, just as the direwolf by his side leapt into action.

Karstark did not know when to keep hush. He retorted back sarcastically, and the altercation ended with him being dragged to the dungeons for his impunity. The other lords were also greatly displeased with him, for now they had no chance of changing the King’s mind about restoring their allowances.

You were glad to see the end of the day, and walked into the chambers of your current abode with Robb trailing behind you.

“Lord Karstark demands hot oil for his feet, did you hear it, darling?” Robb said, crushing the piece of correspondence he read. “To send his demands with servants even when imprisoned. The gall of him.” He chuckled.

“I’ve had it up to here with that old bastard,” you said angrily. You let your hair down and started running your fingers through it roughly. The more you thought of it, the more your anger flared.

“How dare he set foot in your court, dine and dwell in our hospitality, and feel entitled to disrespect you like that? I will not stand for it, Robb.” You said, tugging at the lacing and stepping out of your gray court dress.

“Age does not guarantee wisdom, darling. Experience does. And the old fool has none.” Robb said, walking up to you and resting his hands on your shoulders. He pushed your hair to the side and kissed up your neck from your shoulders to your ear.

You tilted your head to give him more access. After a while he turned you around and kissed your mouth. You savored his languid kisses. His hands slowly pushed your chemise over your shoulders till it hung just above your breasts.

You pulled away, and leaned back, his strong arms holding you up.

“I’m sorry for speaking out of turn, love” you said shyly. You were bold in your anger but the shyness was starting to creep in now. “I love you, and I cannot bear to see you insulted after you pour your soul into this Kingdom.”

“Don’t be sorry, you were fantastic,” Robb said, apparently unable to keep his lips off of you. You gasped as he nipped at the bottom of your throat. “I would like to see the wolf in my little wife more often.”

You giggled at his words, and he walked you backwards till your calves hit the bed. Your chemise dropped to your hips and his hands made quick work of finding your breasts.

Your hands came up to cover yourself.

“Robb, the candles,” you said, eyes wide. His own blue ones lit up with mirth.

“I know now that you are not shy, let me see what is mine, darling.” He whispered, pushing your chemise to the floor. You stepped out of it, naked as the day you were born. Your skin felt hot under his hungry gaze.

“Lie back, Y/N,” he said, licking his lips and pushing you down on the bed. “I wish to show you some of my appreciation.” He knelt before you with a wink.

Robbs hands found your knees and he spread them apart. Your hands twisted into his auburn hair in surprise.

And there was nothing shy about the sounds you made that night.

[dipperscavern]

idk if you would write but i would love to see in ur style a tyrell!reader x robb. imagine being the winter rose? omg living the biggest dream by being a beauty of the seven realms, having tales of ur beauty passed on, and then being betrothed to robb as a mean of house tyrell to guarantee their safety, but still, theres no northern or southern who can resist the tyrell beauty and robb is one of them

nana.. this ask did things to me. i love this idea smsmsm & thank u for sending it in !!

tyrell beauty was never anything that could be denied — by friend or by foe.

you & your twin sister, margaery, were the greatest testimonies to that. while margaery was no doubt beautiful, tales of your beauty had spread throughout the seven kingdoms. singers, poets, servants & kings alike had all heard and contributed to the spread of the tale of the tyrell rose — not only beautiful in physical aspects, but a gorgeous personality to match.

you & margaerys older brother, loras, was also rumored for his looks. safe to say, you three were widely known.. the beauties of house tyrell.

even the north, cold and harsh as it was, was not exempt from hearing the tales of you & your siblings beauty. jokes and speculations had long passed around winterfell, only increasing tenfold when hearing about house tyrell’s rumored interest in forming an allegiance with the north. when bran, rickon, & arya stepped into the castle, covered in dirt & almost soaking wet from that days ministrations, jory only sighed seeing them, ushering them to baths with a mutter of-

“the beauties of winterfell…”

robb only laughed at the teases he heard about you & your siblings, but sometimes found his thoughts wandering to you. his mind often drifting to think about the tyrell rose, absurd childlike questions, that he should’ve pushed away as quickly as they entered his mind. do the tales do your beauty justice? what are you like in person? are you warm? would you like him? what would you think of the north?

he focused on training, doing as he was told & preparing to become lord of winterfell one day, although he couldn’t stop the fleeting thoughts about you that arose every once in a while. a child’s dream, he thought.

so you can imagine his surprise when his father & mother sat him down, telling him of the alliance house tyrell wanted to make with house stark..

through marriage.

robb felt like he was dreaming. the beauty of the seven kingdoms, betrothed to him? he could barely keep the smile off his face, wanting to not only improve stature to his house, but do his duty as a husband. excitement pooled in his gut, as theon clasped his hands on robb’s shoulders at dinner, congratulating him. theon’s hands waved in the air, saying something about-

“the beauty and the beast..”

any other night he would’ve gotten a shove to the ground, but robb only threw him a playful smile. even theon’s relentless teasing couldn’t ruin this for him. if he was to be lord of winterfell one day, he’d need a strong woman by his side — he dreamed of a relationship like his mother and fathers, and he prayed in the godswood to the old gods that night, that they would guide your union as man and wife.

in the days leading up to your arrival at winterfell, countless preparations were made. the tyrell host was large, and all of the starks had done their parts to prepare to receive it. you were to stay in winterfell for a week before the wedding, and your family would leave shortly after. you had handmaidens and a few select soldiers to stay with you at winterfell, and you could visit high garden anytime you wanted in the near future. you asked your grandmother if she would visit you in winterfell again after the wedding, but she only put a hand over your own & said it would take the Father himself to drag her back to that “frozen wasteland”.

the day you arrive, robb thinks he’s might jump out of his skin, he’s so nervous. still, he puts on a brave face for his & his families sake, wanting to be everything you need and more.

you, margaery, and the queen of thornes are riding in the wheelhouse, while ser loras is in front of it, mounted on a white mare. his armor glints in the sunlight, doing wonders to illuminate his face. he’s handsome, robb can admit, and that only makes his curiosity increase about you & your sister. & once you both step out of the wheelhouse, robb feels his heart skip as many beats as it can without killing him.

a few of your cousins step out first, giggly as they curtsy to the starks and stand respectively to the side. margaery is next, gorgeous auburn hair & a button nose, a flattering dress with the tyrell colors proudly on display, and a sweet smile to accompany it all. she curtsy’s as well, standing more in front of the wheelhouse, as loras dismounts and moves to stand next to her.

when you step out of the wheelhouse, robb’s breath hitches. his body forgets every single instinct he’s ever had, & he has to remind himself to breathe, as to not kill himself. you’re beautiful. stunning. a sight for sore eyes. he doesn’t think there’s any word in the common tongue that can be used to describe your beauty without downplaying it. it seems like nobody can tear their eyes off of you, your aura doing wonders to brighten the damp atmosphere.

you curtsy to them all, along with a smile he wishes would never leave your face. robb can’t tear his eyes from you, even when you move to offer your hand to the queen of thornes as she steps out. you meet robb’s gaze in the moment everyones attention is not on you. the corner of his mouth tilts up in a smirk as he winks at you. you only tilt your head, brows lightly furrowing as you smile at him. your gaze falls to the floor as blush rises to your cheeks, retracting your hand from your grandmothers and smoothing out your gown.

pleasantries are exchanged, you and robb stealing glances to each other every so often. lady olenna & a few of your cousins go with ned stark & lady catelyn, moving to discuss the wedding, among other things. you take robb’s arm as he escorts you, margaery, and loras to where you’ll be staying at. robb drinks in every moment with you.

you’re gorgeous, soft, & warm. you have a kind heart, a love for the arts and children, and you’re very kind. your shy nature bubbles away as you grow more comfortable in each others presence.

that night, a great feast is held. everyone of the starklings is made to be in attendance, and robb prays that arya can keep her withering resolve just a little bit longer. you’re sat beside him, softly laughing at a remark ned had made. robb’s heart warms at the sight of you & his father getting along, but is quickly forgotten when he sees arya dash away & out of the hall. guards are sent after her, and robb bites back a smile at her daring antics.

he’s snapped out of his thoughts as your hand clasps his bicep, his head turns towards you as you lean into speak in his ear.

“forgive me, i must be excused. i’ll return shortly.” you say, a reassuring smile making its way onto your face as you get up. robb only nods, sighing in an attempt to soothe his frayed nerves.

it’s a few minutes later when the queen of thornes sits next to him, striking up light conversation. judging his character, no doubt. at the end of it she nods her head in approval, asking him to please find her granddaughter — wherever she’s run off to. robb stands up with an-

“of course, my lady.”

moving to follow the direction you went in. it takes him outside, and he looks around, before his gaze settles on you & a small form behind you, a guard approaching in front of you. robb was lucky to be in earshot of you.

“pardon, my lady, we’re looking for arya underfoot, ned starks daughter. ‘bout yay high, brown of hair. have you seen ‘er ‘round?”

you were stood beside a pillar, one arm behind your back as you discreetly pressed arya further behind you. one shift of your form & arya would be revealed, dragged back to the festivities she had just escaped from. robb watched you from afar, careful not to give away your position — but close enough to hear & see your response. curiosity spread through him as he and the guard both awaited your answer.

your brows furrowed in faux confusion, looking at the guard with a soft expression.

“i must confess, i haven’t seen her. brown of hair, you said?”

the guard swallowed, nodding as he eyed you up & down. you smiled sweetly at him.

“i will be sure to keep an eye out, ser…?”

you slightly raised your brows, and the guard quickly gave you his name. you repeated it to him, and the guard nodded, smiling.

“would you be so kind to escort me back to the festivities? a castle like this.. it’s so easy to get lost.”

the guard quickly agreed, not being able to resist you, & robb is enamored, having witnessed the tyrell charm firsthand. what happens next seals the deal for robb.

as you move to take the guards arm, you spot loras patrolling, his path sending him to pass on the other side of the pillar that you’re at. the eye contact between you both is minimal, and robb almost misses your eyes slightly widen & the small nod of his head. with one swift move, you’re grasping the guards bicep & using your other hand to gently push arya to your older brother, as he outstretches his hand just enough for arya to get the hint. as you walk off, loras has one hand on aryas shoulder, ushering her off with a wink — & robb watches the smile grow on aryas face as she slips away.

yeah, he thinks. you’re perfect.

his winter rose.

sorry if this was too long or not what you were envisioning, but i had sm fun writing this !! tyrell supremacy

[axelsagewrites]

robb stark x fem reader smut where robb talks the reader through it/praise kink

Robb Stark*Good Girl

Pairing: Robb x f!reader

A/N: The prompt didn’t say inexperienced reader but I thought it would work

Warnings: inexperienced smut, handjob, m! receiving oral, f! receiving oral, praise kink, a lot of praise kink smut 18+

Word Count: 2851

Masterlist Here

Things with Robb were amazing, perfect even. When you first got the news of your betrothal you were apprehensive to put it lightly. Why would you want to marry some stuck-up fancy lord? Then you saw his face.

Robb had been far sweeter than you could have hoped. While at first, he was also reluctant to the arrangement he soon warmed to your presence when your family went to Winterfell to spend the month with the Starks. By the end of the month, he was, as Theon liked to point out, absolutely whipped.

At the end of the month your parents broke the news; you would not be leaving with them. They had decided to have you fostered at Winterfell after seeing how much you enjoyed it. even though you struggled at first with the adjustment you soon grew to love every inch of the castle as well as your betrothed.

You often would sneak around the castle after bed with Robb, meeting up in abandoned chambers to talk or the kitchens to scavenge a midnight snack. During the day you snuck off to the godswood or during feasts to the stables. Your adventures were often joined by Jon and Theon, occasionally the younger Starklings tagging along, but the longer you were at Winterfell the more you dragged Robb off to hide in quiet corridors alone.

Girls at your home had gossiped about this sort of stuff. Kissing in corridors and learning how to take care of a sword as they put it. the way they spoke about it made it seem like either a game or a punishment but with Robb it was different. His kissing was tender and slow, his hands soft and gentle but the more you snuck off for make outs in the godswood the more his hands began to search. You didn’t want to stop him despite everything telling you that you should. Instead, all your body wanted was more.

You had also gotten bolder over the two years you had spent at Winterfell and had begun to sneak Robb into your chambers when the air was too cold for your godswood fun. “Hey,” you whispered as you creaked the door open, Robb slipping in quickly so you could close it, your back to him.

“Hi,” he said back, his voice low but a smile it. when you turned back to face him Robb stepped closer, closing the space between you, his hands resting on your hips. His lips were chapped against yours but soft and sweet none the less. Robb pulled back from the kiss, your lips instinctively chasing his and causing him to chuckle, “Did I tell you how pretty you are?”

“Everyday,” you said, a light blush coating your cheeks as you took his hand and led him over to sit on the bed.

Your mother would gasp if she saw you now, curled up in Robb Starks arms, your lips dancing with his. His lips had started slowing but had grown faster, hungrier, as his hands squeezed your hips. “Gods you’re amazing,” he said breathlessly between kisses.

Your hands tangled in his hair as your lips crashed on his again. You had both stripped off your cloaks and heavy layers. While you were still in your dress, Robb was left in just his trousers and undershirt allowing you to see his toned figure beneath the thin cloth and gods did he look good like this.

His lips moved from your lips to kiss your cheek then trail from your jaw, kissing your earlobe then down to your collarbones. You couldn’t help but giggle when he nipped at the sensitive skin or stop your moan when he began to kiss and suck on the sweet spot between your neck and shoulder. “I want you,” you moaned lightly before the words had even made sense in your head.

The words seemed to drive Robb into overdrive as his lips crashed back onto yours, his pace hungry and needy as he held your jaw in his hand. “Don’t tease me love,” he said, before kissing your jaw and nipping at your ear, “I wouldn’t be able to control myself,”

“Please,” you whined when you saw his hard bulge fighting against its trouser fabric. “I wanna feel you,” your said, your fingers grazing over the bulge.

Robb groaned lightly as he looked down at you, “You really are a gift from the gods, aren’t you?” he murmured as he rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip. “You gonna be good for me?” he asked. You were too mesmerised by him to respond but simply nodded your head instead. “Good girl,” he said as his fingers began to unlace his trousers.

Your eyes widened when his trousers loosened, and he sprung free. It was larger than you had expected and red around the tip. Robb couldn’t help but chuckle at your doe eyed expression. “We don’t have too, love,” he said, kissing your cheek.

“I wanna,” you said, your hand hesitantly moving towards it, “Can I…?” you said, your words trailing off as your cheeks flushed.

“You wanna touch it?” he asked lightly, and you nodded. Robb chuckled as he took your hand and guided it to hold him by his base.

Robb let go off your hand and you gave a couple soft strokes to his cock which was enough to make soft moans come from Robbs throat. You stopped for a moment to look at him, “Can you,” you began, stuttering out the words.

“Can I what princess?” he asked as he brushed the hair out of your face.

You swallowed hard before meeting his eyes, “Can you teach me? I wanna do it right I wanna-“

“Be a good girl?” Robb asked, cutting you off.

The words sent shivers down your spine and a hollow feeling grew in your stomach. “Yes,” you stammered out. “I wanna be good,”

“Okay love,” Robb said as he moved slightly up the bed to be sitting with his back against the headboard, “Well first things first. We’ve got to do something about that dress of yours,” he said as he began to pull his under shirt off and tossing it to the side.

You blushed at his words but stood from the bed, your hands working on the laces of your dress till it pooled round your ankles, leaving you in just your shift. The thin shift was not enough to stop the cool northern air from making you shiver or your nipples from perking, a sight that made Robb groan with lust.

“Come here love,” he instructed as he had you climb to sit on his thighs facing him, his cock standing proudly between you both. Robb brushed the hair out of your face, his touch gentle against your skin, “So perfect,” he mumbled as his hands moved down to graze your chest, his thumbs stroking over your perked nipples sending shivers in your skin, “Such a pretty girl,” he praised, his eyes roaming your figure.

Your skin flushed at his words, and you found yourself fidgeting as you waited for instructions. “Thank you,” you mumbled as Robb enjoyed his view.

He looked up with a slight smirk at your words. “Take it in your hand. Like before love,” he said. You took his thick shaft in your hand again, blushing as you did so, “That a girl,” Robb praised as he took your wrist, “Now just,” he said as he moved his hand to guide yours, soft groans falling from his lips, “That’s it,” he said as he let his head fall against the headboard.

His eyes were trained on your body, desperate to take in every inch of you, his intense gaze making your breath hitch. “A bit faster love,” he said, and you did your best to comply, but you could tell he was enjoying it.

“Robbie?” you said, distracting him from his bliss.

“Yes love?” he asked.

Even the thought of asking was making you shuffle with nerves. “You know that thing that Theon was talking about last week?”

“I really do not wanna be thinking about him right now love,” Robb laughed as he took your wrist to slow your strokes, “What was it?”

“That thing that um,” you said, your eyes averting, “that thing that some women do it just that well it sounded like it could be fun, and I was wondering,” you tried to stay but when you met his eyes again your words seemed to dry out when you saw that perfect smirk.

“C’mon you can tell me,” Robb said as he leaned forward, his lips grazing yours, “We can’t do it unless I know what it is,”

“The thing about pleasing a man with your mouth,” you managed to rush out, your eyes flickering down.

A deep chuckle came from Robb who moved to hold your chin, tilting your head up to kiss you softly. You whined when he pulled away, “You’re cute when you’re nervous,” you mumbled a thank you which only made him want you more, “You want to suck my cock? Is that it?” you nodded but it wasn’t enough, “Use your words love,”

“Yes I-I do,” you stuttered, “Please,”

Robb leaned in for another kiss, this one much briefer before he pulled away, “Shuffle down a bit,” Robb said as he helped you find and easier position on the bed, his cock still hard and now just an inch away from your face, your hand still around its base. “You sure about this?” he asked to which you quickly said yes making him laugh, “Okay love,” Robb said as he gently stroked your hair, “Kiss it,” he said, his voice lower than before.

You glanced at him for a moment before turning your attention back to his cock which looked desperate for your touch. You placed a soft kiss to its tip making Robb groan, “Again,” he said, and you began to leave a trail of soft kisses down his shaft before he added, “With tongue,” so you began to leave open mouth kisses up and down his shaft, giving the most attention to the tip since that’s what made the loudest moan from the Stark.

“Fuck you’re so good at this,” Robb groaned as your kisses turned to kitten licks up his shaft, your hand gripping his base to keep him in place, “So fucking good,” he praised as you licked around his tip. Deciding to be bolder you licked over his tip, your tongue swirling around it, “Fuck,” he groaned, his hips bucking, “Just like that love,”

Robbs hand rested on the back of your head, stroking your hair lightly as your mouth worked his member. “Open your mouth for me,” he said, and you complied, your tongue still against his tip. Robb gently lowered your mouth down to take his tip in, “That’s it,” he groaned as your head slowly began to bob up and down, “You take me so well,” he moaned.

His moans and praises were making your confidence grow, your speed began to increase, and he moaned your praises. “I think I’m gonna-fuck,” he mumbled as he began to softly grip on your hair, “Fuck I don’t think I can- “he said when you suddenly felt a salty taste in your mouth that you swallowed without thinking.

When Robb pulled your head up his eyes were screwed shut as he almost seemed to pant for air. You shuffled to sit beside him while he seemed to come back to life, “You are incredible,” Robb panted before his lips crashed onto yours into a hungry kiss.

His hands were squeezing and gripping at your hips while yours tangled into his hair. Robb began to leave sloppy kisses down your neck to your collarbones, his hand moving to squeeze your thigh. Your breath hitched when you felt his hand moving between your legs, “It’s okay,” Robb said as his list moved to your sweet spot on your neck making you moan, “relax love I’ve got you. spread your legs a little,”

“Okay,” you stuttered out as you allowed his hand more room. You gasped when you felt his finger run up your folds.

“Such a good girl,” he praised before kissing your ear lobe, his finger trailing up your aching cunt, “So wet for me. You gonna let me take care of you princess?” you tried to say yes but it was cut off by moans when his finger pressed into your bundle of nerves.

Robb took his time, almost painfully so, before you felt his fingertips pushing into your entrance. He started off slow at first with one finger, curling it inside of you and making a hollow feeling appear in your stomach.

“May I?” he asked as his fingers trailed the neckline of your shift. You nodded and Robb pushed the fabric down to reveal your chest and perked nipples to him. Without warning Robb took one into his mouth, his tongue running over the sensitive bud while his fingers curled to new spots. You didn’t try stop the soft moans falling from your lips, “Such pretty noises you’re making,” Robb praised as he released your nipple and began to shuffle down the bed.

“What are you doing?” you asked as you sat up on your elbows to look at the boy who wore a devious smirk.

“Just trust me princess, lay back,” you did as you were told but you sharply breathed in when you felt his kisses on your thighs. Robb kissed up and down each thigh before you felt his breath fanning over your wet cunt, “Robbie,” you whined at the feeling.

“Yes love?” he asked, smirk evident in his voice.

“Please,” you whined, your voice slightly raising as his fingers curled slowly inside you, “I need you please,”

“You’re so cute when you beg,” he said before leaning in and placing a wet kiss to your clit sending shock waves up your body, “so fuckable too,” he said before licking up your cunt, moaning at the juices.

Your hands tangled in his hair as Robb began to lick greedy strips up your cunt. his tongue began to work circles around your clit, sucking on it lightly and making a pit grow in your stomach all while his fingers curled inside of you, desperate to find your sweet spot. You whined when his lips fell away, “You wanna be a good girl?” he asked, mouth wet with your juices.

“Yes,” you said but it was more of a desperate whine, “Please let me be good,”

“Play with your nipples,” he said, and you began to stutter, “Don’t make me ask twice to love. C’mon you’ve been so good for me, that’s it,” he praised when he saw your fingers start to rub your sensitive buds, “such a good girl,” he said before finally reconnecting his lips.

You could feel your body start to tighten and your thighs close around Robbs head, but he did not protest and instead sped up his tongue, adding another finger into the mix. His fingers stretched you out perfectly and began to curl closer to your sweet spot till Robb finally found it. a loud moan ripped through your body as Robb began to curl his fingers slowly and relentlessly into the same spot over and over till your body felt like it was going to implode. Your fingers still worked your hardened nipples while Robb began to lightly suck on your clit.

When his teeth began to graze your bud, a warm feeling washed over your body as the knot in your stomach began to implode, “Fuck Robbie,” you whined, your arm moving to clamp over your mouth to stop the loud noises pouring out of it, your teeth biting into the flesh to stop the noises from your orgasm ripping through you.

When Robb came up for air, he was breathless, but it did not stop his lips crashing down onto yours, “So fucking beautiful,” he murmured against your lips, “you did so well,”

“Thank you,” you panted as your eyes grew heavy.

Robb shuffled to lay next to you before pulling you into his arms to curl into his side. He kissed the top of your head, “Was that, okay?” he asked, his voice more hesitant than before.

“It was perfect,” you said still dazed from the events.

Robb laughed as he helped you adjust your shift to return your modesty despite his face still being wet with your juices. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” he said, kissing your forehead gently.

“Suddenly I cannot wait for our wedding night,” you mumbled against his skin as your head nuzzled into his chest, sleep threatening to spill over you.

Robb chuckled at your words, “Me neither my love,” he said as he pulled you in tighter, “but for now you need your rest,”

“Maybe a little bit,” you mumbled half asleep. The last thing you heard was Robbs laugh while he stroked your hair gently. Yes, your wedding night would be perfect, you thought.

tag list: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy @fan-goddess @valeskafics

@theyluvgh0st @bella-713 @aerangi

[claymoresword]

Where's My Love

Cersei Lannister x Stark Fem!Reader 🐺

Prompt: I was wondering if you could write a Cersei x Stark!fem!reader where she's Ned's youngest sister and Cersei's ex-secret lover. Reader is a rebel like Arya and never married but she's very protective of her nieces/nephews. She and Cersei had a bad breakup and are finally reuniting during the events of the first GOT episode when the king's court goes to Winterfell. You could write reader backing up Arya again Joffrey and Cersei seething 😂😂😂 you can include g!p and smut if you want.

Wordcount: 5.8k

Pairing: Cersei x Stark Reader

Warnings: g!p reader, smut, power play, depictions of physical abuse, cheating , very toxic , references to alcoholism, breeding kink if you squint, emotional manipulation, did i already say this was toxic ?

Note: thank you so much 🐑 for the prompt! i actually had a lot of fun writing this one. also important to note this is my first time actually publishing something y'all have requested me to write so hopefully i got this right.. i know i tweaked and added a couple things but i hope you don't mind! and if you hate this i'm sorry lmao i tried <33

(smut after asterisks)

Bouts of laughter erupt from your nephews as Bran once again misses his mark, the arrow flies way over the target.

You glare at the older boys, in response Robb places a hand over his mouth, Jon instead chooses to avoid your gaze entirely focusing his stare at the ground beneath.

All dirt and sleet on the base of your boot, the ground squelched with every step you took.

“Try again, Bran. Take a deep breath, aim properly.” You order placing a lingering hand on his shoulder. 

The young boy nods obediently as you step back once more, he raises his bow arm. 

He aims, soon releasing the string, and once again, he misses. The arrow pierces the edge of a barrel on the far left, leagues away from his actual target.

Once again the boys burst into fits of laughter, this time is it not you who reprimands them.

“And which one of you was a marksman at ten?” You follow the sound of your brother's voice, he is standing on the balcony above, Catelyn by his side.

“Keep trying, Bran.” Jon decides to cease his teasing, he encourages his half-brother.

A sudden gust of wind tickles your face, the cold breeze permeates the air, bleeding through the thin fabric of your doublet. You immediately regret not putting on more layers this morning. You have lost track of the days, but there is no doubt that winter is coming.

“Robb, make certain your brother continues practicing. I am going back inside, but remember– your father is watching.” You warn your eldest nephew, as stern as you can manage. 

Shaggy streaks of red hair fall over his eyes as he nods. 

You wrap your arms around yourself as you start up the stairs, but your plan to slip back into your chambers unnoticed fails.

“Y/n.” Cat appears next to you.

“Are you alright?” The Lady of Winterfell asks, and you force a sweet smile, one to disarm and hopefully quell her worries. 

Catelyn didn't exactly warm to you at first, and neither did you with her, but over time you both grew to truly care for one another. She was like an older sister to you, the void left by your late sister Lyanna did not seem so large with her around.

“I'm fine, I just needed to fetch something from my bedchambers, that's all.” You lie. However, the older woman somehow always manages to see right through you.

She gazes upon you skeptically only to eventually release your arm. She takes a step back, allowing you to take your leave without further interrogation.

-

In truth, you were far from alright. 

Despite yourself, you have been on edge since finding out that the King is on his way to Winterfell with his Lady wife and all of their children.

This visit is a sudden one. Upon the death of Jon Arryn you had expected things to be different, knowing how much the former Hand meant to your brother– but you never anticipated a visit from the King himself.

You hadn't seen Robert in nine years, and his wife for longer than that. 

It is not by accident.

If it was up to you, things would be different. You would still be in King's Landing today, perhaps serving as Knight– or as Cersei had once intended, a personal guard for the Queen.

You were once certain that you would spend the rest of your days by Cersei's side, no matter the circumstances, but you merely held the high hopefulness of a young girl. 

Since then have been forced to accept that life is nothing like the tales and songs you were fed as a child. The Gods are not always merciful, things rarely ever go to plan and love most certainly does not conquer all.

Life got in the way of your love, and pride did the rest. 

You have not spoken to Cersei Lannister in a decade, yet your entire being continued to ache with every day that you have spent apart. Time does not heal the type of hurt that only yields to resentment.

When the King and Queen arrive for their visit on the morrow, you intend to avoid her Grace at all costs, for her sake and your own. Above all, you will have no choice but to grit your teeth and endure what you must.

You haven't seen Cersei in years, but you were bound to slaughter each other given the chance.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

“Come in!” You beckon whoever was on the other side of the door as you fastened the clasps on your doublet.

Ned ceases his knocking, pushing the door open, he looks upon you in a way he knew you hated, but your brother can hardly help it.

He worries about you. When you returned home all those years ago, you were inconsolable. 

You are a Stark, not made for the South. Your brother tried in jest, but he knew it wasn't the weather, or even court politics that despaired you. 

It was Cersei, it had always been Cersei.

"The King was seen riding up; he should be arriving any moment.” Ned states.

“Right, I'm almost done here.” You quip, but the man takes it upon himself to assist you with your sheepskin cloak, draping it over your shoulders.

He keeps his hands on you, his brows furrowed with evident worry, and for some reason you can't help but find it all a bit silly, you chuckle lightly. “I will be fine, Ned.” 

Your brother appears less than convinced,  you shove him playfully. “You worry about me too much, brother, it’s beginning to age you.”

Ned scoffs. “Aye, try being in my position for a day and you'll understand why I worry so much… but it is time that's aging me, little sister.” Ned quips in response and this makes you pause.

You notice the streaks of white, scattered across his dark locks. As the morning sun peeks through the window, catching his face, you observe more of those streaks in his beard.

Where has time gone?

Ned steps closer, it seems that he has mistaken your silence for something else. Your brother plants a quick kiss on the crown of your head as a result.

In times like this you can't help but feel like a girl of thirteen again, looking to her older brother for protection.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You watched as the Kingsguard rode through the walls of Winterfell, Lannister banners in hand. It unsettles you more than you thought it would. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek, turning to Sansa, her younger sister still nowhere in sight.

“Sansa, where is your sister?” You question and the girl only shrugs dismissively, but you aren't left wondering for long as Arya can be seen pushing through the crowd, quickly settling next to you.

The young girl was wearing an iron helm you had never seen before, her once pristine dress now ornamented with specks of dirt and grime. You shake your head disapprovingly, an effort to suppress your amusement.

Sansa scoffs at the sight of her younger sister, while you snatch the helm off Arya's head, she looks up at you with a scowl.

“Where did you even get this?” You ask, your tone manages to match the look on her face.

Arya gives you no response, and you aren't allowed the opportunity to press her further as you feel a nudge against your arm. Ned forces you to look ahead as the King can be seen dismounting his horse.

Ned kneels, and you and everyone else follows suit.

After a beat, the King's command all of you to rise, and soon you spot the carriage halting a few feet behind him.

You involuntarily held your breath as the door opens. The Queen emerges, she keeps her gaze ahead as she climbs down the steps.

Cersei looks the picture of poise and grace. She seems older, and somehow even more beautiful than you remembered. It knocked the wind right out of you, you had to look away. 

Your eyes are no longer on the Queen, but your chest aches all the same.

“Cat!” Your attention is pulled to the display before you as the King addresses your sister in law, pulling her in for an embrace that she doesn't appear to be prepared for.

“Nine years. why haven't I seen you, where the hell have you been?” Robert addresses your brother once more.

“Guarding the North, Your Grace. Winterfell is yours.” Ned replies, practiced and noble as he always was.

Robert then turns to you, a scowl upon his face, one that stuns you slightly. Your mind turns to Cersei, you consider what she might have shared with her Lord husband in your absence. 

She must have told him the real reason you left King's Landing, no doubt the King will want you punished for repeatedly bedding his wife all those years ago. but then the King's frown turns, and your mind ceases its torment. 

Robert lunges only to pull you in for an embrace, a gesture that startles you, your body remains tense until he releases you from his hold.

“I expected better from you, Y/n.” The King narrows his gaze in a puckish manner. 

“Unlike your damned brother here I thought you enjoyed the Keep. I was sure you wanted to serve in my Kingsguard.” He adds, and you force a grin, gallant yet strained.

“I admit that was a different time, Your Grace. These days, my passions lie elsewhere.” You reply, and you can hardly prevent the way your gaze flits towards the Queen for a moment.

Cersei has been stood beside her husband, staring at you relentlessly for the entire duration of this interaction. If the Queen has remained the same person she was all those years ago, then you know for certain this was her attempt to intimidate– but you were not so keen on letting her have the upper hand. 

You drill your expression, unfazed.

The King snorts derisively at your answer, but says nothing more.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You had spent most of the afternoon, drowning in your cups. The knowledge that Cersei was only a few doors away was aggravating, everything you thought to have successfully repressed has now resurfaced.

Every inch of you calls out to Cersei, your very soul yearns for her. You craved the unbearable pain, and blinding pleasure that came with being around her.

You have laid awake many nights picturing the ways you would confront her. The things you would say to her. 

You fantasized about the possibility of finally being rid of all of your pain. To hurt her the same way she hurt you. Your heart, dense and cold, obstructed by all things Cersei. Within you, you carried everything you despised about the other woman– and all the things you adored.

The Queen was a mistake you couldn't erase, and simultaneously the best thing that has ever happened to you. You hate her, but you cannot stand to be apart from her.

-

The sound of commotion snatches you out of your thoughts. The voices that permeate sound vaguely familiar to you, but you are only able to place them once you take a glance out your window.

You spot Arya and Bran in the courtyard. Prince Joffrey standing over them, your face falls as you spot his steel unsheathed from his scabbard and in his hand.

Without another moment's thought you rushed downstairs towards the training yard, prepared to pacify the affair, however dire it may be, but it seems Arya has taken the situation into her own hands.

Bran is gone, but the Prince is now on the ground. It seems that Arya has managed to disarm the older boy, his steel thrown to the side in the dirt. 

Now she is threatening Joffrey with a wooden practice sword, her direwolf beside her, growling with intent at the Prince.

“Arya enough!” You intercept the blow, forcefully dragging your niece away from the boy.

“What the seven hells do you think you're doing?” You bark, and Arya drops the sword, her chest still heaving.

A young girl seething with unbridled fury was such an uncommon sight that it makes you grimace.

“He was trying to hurt Bran! I had to protect him.” Arya gestures to the Prince, the boy still whimpering in pain.

“Damn you and that stupid dog! I am telling my mother! I will report you to the king!” Joffrey hurls his threats, and Arya makes the juvenile decision to respond.

“Nymeria's a direwolf, not a dog!” She shouts and you sigh, placing a hand over your niece's mouth to silence her, an action Arya fights but your grip on her doesn't relent.

“My Prince, I am sure my niece meant no harm–” You try but the boy interjects.

“No harm?” The Prince hisses. “She nearly sliced my arm off!” Once again he whimpers like a pup that had just been trampled.

You take a step forward to examine the cut on Joffrey's arm, and it was only that– a minor cut, one that will heal without leaving as much as a scar.

Large footsteps approach, the Prince's sworn guard comes rushing to the scene, Sandor Clegane scowls at you before assisting the boy to his feet effortlessly with one hand.

“Some protector you are, dog. I almost died!” Joffrey then redirects his frustrations towards his guard.

He continues muttering insults as he retrieves his sword from the dirt, strutting out of the training yard.

Nymeria doesn't cease her growling until the boy was entirely out of sight, it was also only then you remove your hand from Arya's mouth.

“Have you completely lost your wits?” You gape, looking down at your niece disapprovingly, before kneeling to be at eye level with her.

“He was–” Arya starts, but you interrupt.“–I don't care what he did, Arya. You never attack a Prince.” You state firmly.

“You do something like this again and I will make sure you never get the chance to wield a weapon again, do you understand?” You assert, and your tone is harsh enough to make Arya wince.

She doesn't reply with words, she continues looking down at her feet as she nods.

“Let's go and get you cleaned up.” You state, you try to pull her by the arm but Arya doesn't budge.

“I was trying to be brave, like you.” She mutters under her breath, and you turn to look at the young girl once more.

“What?” You ask.

“Don't be upset with me, please, please. I'm sorry.” Then Arya states frantically, her voice small and frail– it shatters you.

“Oh, Arya– my sweet girl.” You say, kneeling once again. “I'm not upset, I was worried.” You pull her in for an embrace, your niece clutches you tightly in return.

After a prolonged moment, you cease the hug, wiping away some of the dirt from her face with the pads of your thumbs. 

Then you took a quick scan of your surroundings, to ensure that you were alone before speaking again.

“Our Prince is a bit of a cunt.” You finally quip, earning a chuckle from Arya.

“He is.” Your niece beams at you, in turn this makes you fill with relief.

“I am proud of you for disarming him. but next time, leave it at that. Do you understand the consequences that come with attacking a King's heir?” You ask, and you watch as a realization graces the young girl, she averts her gaze, this time with guilt.

“Never again, do you hear me?”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You were exhausted from the events of the day, and yet it was not close to over. 

You decide to retire to your chambers, aiming for at least a few hours rest before the King's welcome feast later this evening.

Resting your hand on the pommel of your sword, you take large steps through the gallery. You crave the horn of ale waiting for you on your nightstand, the comfort of your warm bed.

You turn the corner, a figure appears before you and you swerve out of the way quickly enough to avoid whoever it was that decided to walk toward you in this exact moment from the opposite direction.

As you gather yourself to take a proper look at the woman who you nearly bumped into, your blood runs cold. 

“Your Grace, forgive me.” You state curtly, inclining your head at Cersei. 

Your hand remains resting on the hilt of your sword as you attempt to slip past her, but before you can successfully walk away, she has a hold of your arm, dragging you backwards to where you stood.

You yank your arm out of her hold, a scowl covers your features, but Cersei ignores your visible discontent as she speaks.

“That niece of yours tried to murder my son.” The Queen accuses.

“What?” You can't help the half-laugh that slips out of you. Cersei takes offense to this, her expression hardens.

“Joff will bear those scars for the rest of his life.” She is not backing down, and you can't pretend that you possessed the will to deal with her theatrics.

You only roll your eyes, finally slipping past her and into your chambers.

You step inside your room, but before you can close the door Cersei intercepts, forcefully pushing it open to let herself in.

She slams it closed behind herself.

“You dare walk away from your Queen?” She bellows.

This time you groan, collapsing onto your bed.

You ignore her statement, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration. “Oh, Cersei, it is a cut, it'll heal!”

A prolonged silence from the Queen, she only speaks again once you sit up in your bed.

“You've not changed a bit.” She remarks, treacherous emerald gaze meeting your pale greys.

“Neither have you.” You retaliate boldly.

More silence until Cersei is first to look away, clasping her hands infront of herself she assumes an impassive stance.

“I will have that girl punished.” The Queen threatens, her tone sounds spiteful. but you don't hide your incredulity.

“For what?” You ask, and Cersei's jaw clenches even tighter, you wonder if she might lunge at you.

“She attacked my son. the King's heir.” Cersei retorts, and you scoff.

“Is that what Robert’s teaching his sons? How to lose to a little girl?” You taunt, not backing down.

You knew Arya should receive consequences for her actions by right, but giving Cersei that satisfaction is the absolute last thing you plan to do.

“Or is it not the King's doing at all?” You ask again as Cersei fails to respond. You rise from the bed, stepping closer to the Queen.

“Is it Jaime's fault?” You tilt your head inquisitively, mockingly. 

You are close enough to smell the lavender oil on Cersei's skin. Her eyes flit to your lips for a fleeting moment, and yours do the same to hers. 

Then a madness overcomes you, prompting your next choice of words.

“I expect it is him you've been opening your legs for these days–” You utter, but you are swiftly silenced when Cersei's palm makes contact with your cheek.

She slaps you across the face, your head turns slightly from the force of it. Your face is now throbbing, raw and red with traces of Cersei's wrath. 

She goes to strike you again, and this time it is intercepted by your firm grip on her wrist. 

A fury reignites within you as Cersei tries to fight out of your hold, entirely allowing your emotions to guide your actions, your hand finds her throat. Before your rational mind can mitigate it, you have your fingers firmly wrapped around her neck. The back of her head slams against the wooden door as you forcibly pinned her upon it.

The Queen is clawing at your hand, struggling to take a breath as you restricted her airway. A real fear flashes across Cersei's face, and a part of you wants to watch her fall limp within your grasp, to quiet her once and for all, to destroy the cause of your agony. but you don't– instead you take a step back, releasing her. 

Cersei gasps as air sharply re enters her lungs, roughly wiping away the tears that have made it down her cheeks.

The Queen attempts to regain her resolve the best she can, and the look she gives you is not one of shock, instead it is pure disdain, and you look at her the same. Cersei doesn't speak, she merely shoves you harshly with both hands against your chest, as you stumbled back, she turns to open the door.

You collapse on your bed once more as Cersei dissapears into the hallway, the door shutting behind her. 

“Fuck.” You cursed under your breath. It seemed the Queen will never fail to elicit the worst from you– to make you act like an utter lunatic.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

The welcome feast has been dragging on now for what felt like an eternity. 

The King was no longer seated as his high table, instead he was in the center of the hall, shamelessly flirting with some of the servants.

You roll your eyes, reaching for the flagon of ale infront of you, as you attempted to lift it, it doesn't budge. You fleetingly wonder if the liquor had caused you to lose all strength in your arm, only to realize your brother was holding the jug firmly on the table so it wouldn't move.

You squint at Ned, and he glares at you in return.

“Enough. You'll drink yourself into an early grave if you keep this up.” Your brother warns and it makes you snigger.

“That is the plan, brother.” You slur slightly, but Ned makes the deliberate effort to ignore you.

You slump backwards in your chair, when you've realized you lost this argument, as you often did when it came to the lord of Winterfell.

You eyes fall upon King Robert once more, he is still in the middle of the room, surrounded by maidens and even more whores. 

This time he is no longer flirting with them, he is in a full lip lock with one of the women. He does this in the presence of the Queen, dishonouring her for all to see.

You grimace at the sight, an unwanted rage overcomes you. You can hardly believe this lecherous drunk was King of the Seven Kingdoms. Married to the most beautiful woman in all of the seven kingdoms, the only woman you have ever wanted.

You can't bear to look at Cersei's reaction to this, in fact you can hardly remain at this feast for a moment longer. You abruptly rise from your seat, Ned looks up at you, puzzled.

“May I please be excused?” You asked formally for the rest of the table to hear and your brother hesitates before nodding curtly in response.

As you walked back to your chambers you can't help but invision what your life would have been like if your brother had taken the Iron throne instead of Robert Baratheon. If you had remained in King's Landing– if you had wedded Cersei instead.

Perhaps in a different life. 

You and Cersei would be married, and you'd rule together. In another reality Cersei would be your Queen and not Robert's. She would bear your children, your heirs. You would grow old together and live out your days by each other's side. In a different life, you would have remained faithful to Cersei, you would have given her everything she desired and in return, Cersei would offer you her heart. 

You would have been happy.

In another life. 

By the time you reached your room, the tears had stopped flowing, but the collar of your shirt remained drenched.

As you shut your door, you unclapsed your doublet, lifting it above your head, tossing it aimlessly across the room. 

Now only in your tunic and breeches, you feel the urge to weep some more, but you refuse to allow your tears to fall this time. 

You take a seat on the settee, head in your hands. The effects of the ale already wearing off, a headache rapidly setting in, you realized that you needed another drink.

You get up to fetch the flagon from the small table but as your door flings wide open, nearly hitting you in the process, you freeze where you stand.

A familiar golden haired beauty emerges through the doorway, and you allow yourself a deep breath. Clutching your chest slightly to calm yourself.

“Your Grace, the hour is late.” You state dismissively, starting across the room to fetch your goblet.

“If you have come to order my execution for my behaviour this afternoon, best get it over with.” You quip, the liquor in your system doing all of the talking for you.

You hear the door shut, without looking back you assume Cersei had taken her leave but you are perplexed when you turn to see her still standing by the door, watching you set down your goblet.

You walk across the room once more to take a seat on the settee, you remove your boots, setting them aside.

Cersei has remained silent for long enough that you nearly forgotten her presence entirely. Her next ask startles you.

“Look at me.” Her commanding tone leaves no room to argue, you glance at her. 

Her eyes were swollen, her cheeks flushed. It is clear to you that she has been crying as well.

You rise from your seat abruptly, approaching her. “Are you alright?” You ask, and again the Queen says nothing.

She merely stares at you, hopefulness at your concern and despair at the fact that you needed to ask.

**

She lunges forward, before you can fully comprehend it, her lips crash against your own, she kisses you deeply, pure anguish and want. It snatches the air right out of your lungs, but you have no desire to pull away.

Your tongue makes contact with her own and Cersei moans, pulling you impossibly closer by the nape of your neck.

Your body pressed up against hers as she leans against the wall. You were now both panting into the kiss, all aggression and desire. 

You had not been with Cersei like this in a decade, and yet there was a complete lack of uncertainty. It felt right, you were certain that you are meant to be with her like this, until the end of your days. 

However, there still exists voice deep within you, whether it is pride or reason, you cannot say for certain. but it urges you to pull away, so you do.

The Queen chases your lips eagerly, but you pull back even further. “Cersei, stop. What is this, what are you doing?” You ask, every moment you spent without your lips on hers felt like pure agony.

“I just need you– please–” Cersei replies with a desperation you have never heard before, and this was enough to break you. 

Any semblance of dignity vanishes into the very depths of yourself, all that's left is your deep and tortuous want for Cersei.

You kiss her again, rough and urgent, you are panting and groaning into each other's mouths. Cersei's hands immediately move to the hem of your breeches, she unlaces them in record time, slipping her hand inside.

You nearly lose it all when she wraps her fingers around the base of your cock, stroking it with such dexterity you fear your knees may give out.

“Gods–” You grunt, bucking your hips embarrassingly into her touch. 

You find the strength to remove her hand from your breeches. Soon enough you slip them off, your slacks pooling around your ankles before you kicked them to the side.

You swiftly remove your own tunic as Cersei's trembling hands struggle to undo the laces of her dress. 

Your patience wearing thin, you flip her around, indecently ripping the fabric open with one swift tug. 

“Y/n–” Cersei scolds in response to your eagerness, glancing back at you with dissaproval, but her dress easily slips off her shoulders after that, her smallclothes follow suit.

The Queen is still facing away from you as you part her hair away from her neck, trailing open mouthed kisses against her hot flesh, as you reached a certain familiar spot, your teeth grazed the skin, before biting down on it briefly. 

This earns a louder noise from Cersei, she is still trembling as she turns back around to face you, grabbing you firmly to pull you in for another sloppy kiss.

Lips still interlocked, the Queen walks you backwards onto the bed, Cersei doesn't waste another moment, straddling you as soon as you settled your rear on the edge of the bedding.

Your cock now stiff as a rod, poking at Cersei's entrance. The other woman begins moving her hips as you kissed, rubbing her cunt on the length of your shaft, coating it with her slick.

Your breath quickens, the sensation was maddening, you needed to be inside her now.

“Gods, I missed you.” You let it slip as your lips parted for a moment, but Cersei doesn't respond. 

The Queen's grip on the nape of your neck moves to your hair as she grasps a handful of it, tugging your head back slightly. Her other hand travels south, she grips the base of your cock once more, this time lining it up to her entrance. 

She begins lowering herself onto your length, Cersei moves quickly, with every inch that enters her, she lets out a gasp at the sensation. Soon you are sheathed inside of her to the hilt, and Cersei throws her head back, she releases an unrestrained moan, her hands now firmly on your shoulders.

She attemps to push you back against the bed, but you refuse to budge. Cersei relents, kissing you again as she moves her hips up and down the length of your cock. With every moan from Cersei you retaliate with a groan.

The feeling of her walls fluttering against your girth made you dizzy. The Queen felt so unbelievably good wrapped around your cock, you had forgotten just how intoxicating it was.

Now that you were experiencing it again, you never wanted it to end.

 Vulgar noises of your coupling filled the room as Cersei moved herself desperately against your lap, your cock hitting just the right spots within her. 

The Queen can feel her release already approaching, entirely overwhelmed by this she falls limp against you, but you manage to support her weight with minimal effort. Her hips still moving at a steady pace until it finally hits her, her orgasm washes over her like a wave. 

Cersei cries out in pleasure, partially muffled against your neck, she holds onto you for dear life as her peak overcomes all her other senses, relentless and unforgiving. You feel her cunt clenching painfully around your cock, her short shallow breaths against your neck, she is trembling helplessly, and you never want to let her go.

“Seven hells.” The Queen breathes out, finally lifting her head to look at you.

Cersei's eyes were nearly glazed over, her chest heaving violently, but you were far from done with her.

You capture her lips with your own again, earning a content moan. You remained sheathed inside of her as you flipped your positions, now Cersei laid on the bed, with you on top of her. The other woman's gasp in surprise is muffled by your own mouth against hers.

Once again she moans into your mouth as you began your thrusts, deep and slow, you aim to feel every inch of her. Cersei wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you in even deeper.

The Queen gasps as your mouth found the swell of her breasts, your tongue leaving a trail of saliva as you expertly moved from one nipple to the other. 

Your thrusts grow harsh and inconsistent as you felt your own climax building. Cersei's back arches, a deafening moan rips out of her. 

You roughly placed your hand against her stomach, pinning her down against the bed as you continued to rut into her. Cersei was mewling and panting like a whore now as you used her for your own pleasure, heightening her own in the process. 

The Queen finds just enough strength to pull you closer, her lips now against your ear.

“Tell me you love me.” Cersei pleads, and this takes you entirely by surprise, you slow your movements but you don't stop.

“What?” You ask, shaky, breathless.

“Just say it.” The Queen repeats amidst another moan, she clenches around your cock and the sound that emits from you then is guttural, primal.

You oblige without asking further questions.

“I love you, Cersei” You speak, from the heart, damning the consequences.

With that, Cersei reaches her peak again, her nails digging into the flesh of your back as she comes. The feeling of her perfect cunt milking your cock, accompanied by her writhing body underneath you was enough to push you over the edge.

As you attempt to pull out, Cersei kept her legs firmly wrapped around your waist, holding you in place. You are not given the opportunity to question it as it was already too late, you moaned as you released your load deep inside her, painting her womb with your seed.

**

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Nearly a candlemark has passed since your coupling and neither you or Cersei have said more than a few words. 

Simply embracing each other under the sheets, she rests her head against your shoulder, tracing circles absentmindedly with her finger against your abdomen. 

This position was achingly familiar, almost as if no time had passed.

Cersei soon moves her hand further up, she traces her fingers across your bottom lip before running her thumb down the bridge of your nose. The sensation earns a chuckle out of you, you finally had to reach up to remove her hand, guiding it away from your face.

Cersei's stare betrays an intensity that makes your heart constrict painfully in your chest.

Still unspeaking, it was your turn to explore her body, but you don't get very far, your fingertips trace the faint bruising on her neck, the marks left by your own cruelty.

The Queen then shuts her eyes, she doesn't allow herself to look upon your guilt any longer. Wrapping her arm across your torso, nuzzling her face against your shoulder.

“I'm not letting you go– never again.” Cersei mutters, and the smile that tugs on your lips is one of relief and acceptance.

You don't supress the urge to plant a lingering kiss on her temple, one the Queen allows herself to melt into.

[adoptable-fanfic-prompts]

Game of Thrones Writing Prompt

All the Stark kids turn into direwolves (they still get their wolves later but also become wolves). It starts with Jon and Robb getting a fever when they are around 3-6 years old (get it at the same time). Turns out it’s a magical sickness because as soon as it passes, they can turn into direwolf pups. The same thing eventually happens to the other Stark kids.

I even had the thought of Theon potentially getting it at a later age due to him going to the Godswood of Winterfell and wishing he was a Stark over a Greyjoy (had no idea that what he thought was a private moment with himself was being observed by the Old Gods. His eyes also turn to Stark Grey. He has a harder time due to his older age, though).

The Stark children (plus Theon) are a little wilder and closer than canon. When Robert Baratheon comes down, it’s Rickon’s turn so they have to hide it.

Not sure of anything else with this. If anyone has any other ideas with this, let me know.

[spxllcxstxr]

Protected • R.S

(Gif not mine)

Request: Hi!! Can I request a angst/fluff with robb stark & the prompt: I’m going to protect you. Thank you so much :))) — anon

Summary: The aftermath of Ned Stark’s death

Warnings: canon character death sprinkled with a wee bit of canon divergence?, grieving, reader wears a dress and is referred to as wife (no pronouns used)

Word Count: 769 (i'm so sorry for the short length lmao)

A.N: first time writing Robb! i actually really like this ngl, hope you enjoy!

•

“That boy is going to ruin his sword.” Lady Catelyn mutters from beside you, her eyes trained on her eldest son on the edge of the tree line. Her hands fidget with the end of her braid.

Your own eyes gaze out to see your betrothed, hacking away at a tree stump, his grunts echoing throughout the silent camp.

News of Ned Stark’s horrid death spread through the camp quickly only hours prior, and the men had hid in their tents to mourn the Lord of Winterfell. It was a gloomy day, appropriately reflecting the mood of the solemn North. The clouds were heavy and grey, the air still smelling of the earlier rain.

Sighing, you watch Robb hit anything within arms reach. His moves are erratic, it's obvious even from this distance. Your teeth tease your bottom lip uneasily.

“I should go to him…” Lady Catelyn sighs, her lips tilted down into a frown.

Your hand rests on her shoulder, stopping the older woman from moving. “My Lady, you just lost your husband…go grieve. I will talk to Robb.”

Lady Catelyn nods, her eyes vacant as she turns towards her own tent. You watch her leave, making sure she gets to her destination safely before trudging through the mud to your betrothed.

The mud clings to your nice shoes, and at this point you don’t bother hiking your skirts up to avoid the filth below you. Your eyes stay trained on Robb, his forceful movement never ceasing.

A few feet away from him, you hear his grunts of anguish and frustration, his tunic dotted with sweat. You let his take one more swing at the rotting stump before you cough to gain his attention.

“Robb, I think that is enough…”

Robb freezes before slowly turning to face you. His auburn curls untamed and his blue eyes burning brighter with rage. You’ve never seen him like this at all, not when he first heard his father was taken prisoner in King’s Landing, nor when he discovered that someone had sent assassins to kill Bran. Your eyes widen at the state of your betrothed, fidgeting in place. He pants heavily as he looks at you.

“I’ll kill them! I swear to every god out there, I will kill the Lannisters for what they have done!” Robb seethes, his face red with anger. “It is only what those murderous pricks deserve.”

He flings his sword down, taking deep ragged breaths. You don’t flinch at his uncharacteristic anger, instead you inch closer to your betrothed.

All at once, as if the adrenaline drains out of him, Robb falls to his knees, his blue eyes trained on the mud beneath your feet as they glimmer with tears.

You drop down with him, taking his head in your hands, leaning your forehead against your lover’s.

“Oh darling…” You whisper, watching the grief take over his features. Your heart breaks seeing him so vulnerable.

“My father is dead,” He sobs, tears finally spilling down his cheeks. “They have to pay for what they have done.”

“They will, Robb, they will suffer for their cruelty towards the North," You tell him softly, lifting your head to place a delicate kiss on his forehead.

Robb glances up as well, his tears subsiding. “And I will protect you, my dearest. No Lannister will ever harm you,” There is a quick burst of fire behind those usually cool eyes. “they would not dare.”

“Robb—“ Your fingertips brush over his stubble.

“They have taken my sisters hostage and they have killed my father, but they will not take my wife from me.”

Heat creeps up your neck at his passionate words. You and Robb had not yet been wed but hearing his call you his wife causes you to shiver.

“I swear it to you, my love,” Robb continues, taking your hands in his rough hands, squeezing them tightly between your two closely crouched bodies. “They will not touch you.”

“I believe you, darling, I do.” You reply lightly, squeezing back, attempting to convey how much trust and love you’re filled with for him.

The sky seems to lighten, clouds parting ever so slightly to let the sun peek through enough to shine down on your camp. The moist air of the Riverlands clings onto your skin as the few rays of sun beats down on your exposed skin making your position unbearable.

Wordlessly, you and Robb rise, chins up despite the situation that just occurred. Your hands hold onto his arm as the two of you, side by side, walk back into the center of camp, ready for war.

•